


Awakening

by itsbeen20years



Category: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade, Beyblade
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, One Shot, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26499922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsbeen20years/pseuds/itsbeen20years
Summary: At a charity event, Raul encounters Yuriy - with unexpected consequences.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short fic I wrote after our fandom group jokingly talked about mildly drunk Yuriy and how he would behave. I generally think that Yuriy very seldomly drinks, but sometimes... Oh well.

Raul was sitting in a dark corner of the room on lounge furniture with fake leather cushions, sucking on his straw. His suit felt strangely stiff. Julia had suspected that his shoulders had become more muscular due to regular beybattles, and that his jacket was getting too small. He tried to ignore the feeling of constriction and peered at his sister, who stood a few metres away and talked to Mathilda, Mao, and a few ladies unknown to him. There was hardly any competition between the women bladers, on the contrary: they had quickly joined forces, especially in order to get one over on their male team members from time to time. The fact that Giulia kept leaving him to talk to other people had been strange for Raul in the beginning. They were, after all, the inseparable sibling duo of F Sangre! But the others were nicer than he had expected, so he slowly got used to socializing on his own. Especially since he was the one who had started the whole going solo thing - during the tournament, in the match against Barthez Battalion. He remembered how he had played against Mathilda - a good battle. And how long it had been now, almost two years...  
And now? After the sport came the duty, and so they all had come to the charity event today to raise money for the first World Championship of the new BBA. Even the former BEGA-bladers were here. MingMing had given a small concert earlier, and now all the star-bladers mingled with the potential sponsors to enchant them. From his hiding place Raul could watch Takao entertaining a whole group of people. He had this sparkle in his eyes, as always when he talked about the sport. A little further away, Miguel was taking selfies with a young woman. Michael and Rick looked like they were demonstrating baseball moves or something. And Rei and Hiromi were within his field of view, too, sitting at one of the tables and having a very civilised looking conversation with their interlocutors. The rest of the room disappeared into the semi-darkness.  
Raul leaned back and sighed. Unlike his sister, he did not like events like this. He liked being on stage, yes, but being up there and being cheered on was something different than actually having to interact with strangers. That was not his thing at all. He didn't know how to start a conversation, nor how to make himself seem sympathetic. What should he do with his hands? Where should he look? It was much too stressful.  
The cocktail he had rewarded himself with was good, though. Raul didn't have much experience with alcohol. Sure, he regularly drank a glass of red wine with Julia and Romero, but since he hardly ever went out, cocktails were still relatively new for him. Earlier, he had observed how Neo Borg and the Euro Team had marched to the bar and had drunk vodka shots together. Hell knew where the sudden companionship between the two teams came from. Most of them settled on wine or a long drink, though. In the beginning there was also sparkling wine for everyone. Raul was a bit dizzy; that was another reason why he had withdrawn himself from the others, but he wouldn't say he was drunk yet. For a moment he closed his eyes and noticed how he was finally able to relax a little.  
He felt a movement right next to him, and suddenly the smell of cigarette smoke was in the air. Raul blinked, looked to the side - and his heart skipped a beat. There sat none other than Yuriy Ivanov, a dripping glass that contained dancing ice cubes and some kind of liquid in his hand and a broad grin on his face. He wore a narrow-cut suit that accentuated his slim frame much better than his beyblading outfit. "You're not getting tired already, are you, kiddo?" His English was good, but his words sounded a bit like chanting, which was due to the fact that in Russian the natural emphasis lay on different syllables. His Rs rolled barely noticeable on the tip of his tongue and his Ths sounded more like sharp S. Had his voice always been so raucous? Raul felt the hairs on his forearms standing up. There was a sudden emptiness in his head, he had no idea what he could say back. But that didn't seem to bother his counterpart, because he bent over (and Raul suddenly became aware of the not inconsiderable difference in height between them) and asked: "What are you drinking?  
"I, uh..." Oh, how embarrassing. "I think this is the... S-Sex In The Forest... I think."  
"Hmm, kinky."  
Raul felt his cheeks flush and immediately became angry at himself. This had always happened to him when he was younger, but by now he should have been past the age where everything he did was embarrassing! He took another nervous sip of his drink and noticed that it was slowly watering down. The alcohol was barely perceptible and the berry flavour was almost gone. Yuriy’s eyes did not leave him, he watched Raul as if he was a reptile in a terrarium. One of his long legs was crossed over the other, his elbow was resting on the low back of the sofa. Everything about Yuriy was slim and delicate, his hands seemed made for an instrument and so different from Raul’s, which were hard and full of blisters from working in the circus. He couldn't help but let his gaze wander, briefly clinging to Yuriy's collarbone and then following the open shirt collar a little way down, for as long as his bare skin was visible. Something ran through Raul's intestines that felt like warm water. He blamed it on the alcohol.  
At that moment a bubbling sound was heard. During the past few seconds, he had unconsciously finished his drink, and now the last drops were wheezing in his straw. He quickly stopped sucking. Yuriy raised his eyebrows, then he offered him his own drink. "Do you want some?"  
He wanted to say no. He was gonna ask Yuriy what he wanted from him in the first place. But the words didn't come out because everything about Yuriy signalled that he better did what he was told instead of asking stupid questions. So he finally took the slippery, cold glass and took a sip. Something burned in his throat and he had to keep himself from pulling a face. "What is this?"  
"Moscow Mule."  
"Uh-huh." Raul wanted to give him back the glass, but Yuriy shook his head and made an inviting gesture. So he raised it to his mouth again. As soon as Raul had started drinking, Yuriy stretched out his arm and put two fingers under the glass so he couldn't put it down. "Bottoms up," he commented. Raul panicked for a moment, but then he realised that only three sips of the drink were left anyway. The burning didn't get better, but it was somehow more refreshing than his cocktail.  
"Good boy," Yuriy said as he had finished. "Now, you come out of your corner and join me at the bar."  
It fascinated Raul how naturally it seemed to be for the Russian to assume that he would follow him. No one contradicted Yuriy Ivanov. Not even Kai Hiwatari contradicted Yuriy Ivanov. So someone like him had no chance at all.  
Then Raul noticed that Yuriy was swaying. It was actually hardly noticeable, but he had always had an eye for detail, and, compared to Yuriy’s usual composure, he seemed nervous, almost unsteady. He was about to knock over a chair, but shortly before he collided with it he managed to dodge it.  
Oh God, Yuriy was drunk.  
"Hey, Ivanov!" That was Rick, glancing over at them both. "What are you doing with the kid? Don't eat him up or you'll get in trouble with Julia!"  
"Idi k chertu, darling - whoops!" Yuriy had sounded quite buoyant at first, but he hadn't paid attention to his path and had run into a bar stool. Instinctively, Raul took a step forward and grabbed his upper arm - which was completely unnecessary as Yuriy was still standing securely on both feet. His body was strangely cool and they were now close enough for Raul to notice another, much better smell beneath the layer of cigarette smoke. Then he realized that he was still clinging to Yuriy's arm and quickly let go. The other looked down at him indistinctly, then he pointed to a stool. "Sit. Let's order you a proper drink."

At some point the room began to empty, the guests started to leave one by one. But many of the bladers stayed a little longer. They didn’t come together in such a big group often, so they always made the best of it.  
It was close to midnight when Raul drank his first vodka shot. It was not as bad as he had thought. The liquid was cold, so he could hardly taste anything, and the burning in his throat was bearable. Yuriy was next to him; he had draped his body halfway over the counter, his head resting on his upper arm. The blue eyes looked up at him mischievously and with every smile a row of very white teeth appeared. He smiled often.  
After the shot Raul became more courageous. He began to ask questions: Had Yuriy competed against Daichi again? How did it feel to be considered the strongest blader in the world? How did it feel to have someone like Kai on the team? Yuriy answered patiently and the chanting of his words echoed in Raul's ears. His initial fear of the Russian had vanished completely; maybe it was due to their drunkenness. Instead, other things were going on within Raul that he could not explain or even pin down. But it was not unpleasant, on the contrary. He caught himself thinking of touching Yuriy's hair, grabbing him and pulling him into ...  
"Yura!"  
The voice came from somewhere behind Raul. Yuriy started to move; he untangled his limbs and straightened up. And then Boris appeared next to them and it was very clear to Raul that Boris was the drunkest of them all. He raised an arm to put it around Yuriy’s shoulders, but couldn’t quite reach so far up, so he opted for a weird embrace. "You won’t believe me!" he said, grinning. "I got Hiwatari completely wasted. We want to break into Daitenji's office. Are you in?"  
Yuriy laughed - a sound that made Raul feel something warm in his stomach again, only this time it was more like lava - and patted Boris' cheek. "And why should I do such a silly thing, huh?"  
His team mate raised his shoulders. "Just because. Eh?"  
"Uh. All right." Yuriy slipped off his stool and only now did Raul realize what was happening. "Hey!" he protested weakly, "Why-?" But Boris had already reached for Yuriy's arm and pulled him away. The redhead didn't even turn around to look back at Raul.

The next morning Raul awoke from strange dreams. Julia was still asleep, so he got up quietly and sat down on the balcony to think. He felt sick and had a bland taste in his mouth, but that was not the problem. It was the thought of smooth, cool skin and delicate hands that made his stomach feel tight. Last night he had learned more about himself than he wanted to.  
Finally he set off for breakfast. Perhaps a strong tea or even an espresso would help to improve at least his physical condition.  
At the coffee machine stood Yuriy.  
Raul was rooted to the spot for a moment, then he mentally pinched himself and went over. "Morning!"  
"Morning," Yuriy grumbled and let a second black coffee run into his cup. He did not look at Raul, who stood a little indecisive, not knowing what to say. "Well, did you find anything interesting in Daitenji's office?"  
"Uch, Boris, this idiot, broke the lock and we didn't even get in, but..." He broke off and looked at him confused. "How do you know that?"  
"I sat next to you when Boris told you about his brilliant idea..."  
Yuriy frowned and took a sip from his cup. "Really?"  
"Uh-huh," Raul mumbled. He had a bad suspicion, and disappointment gnawed at him as well as relief. Blue eyes watched him closely and he couldn't hold the gaze. Defiantly, he placed an espresso cup under the tap of the machine and pressed the corresponding button. The smell of freshly brewed coffee rose to his nose.  
"Well," said Yuriy, who had still not left. Suddenly, Raul felt his hand on his head, in his hair. The Russian’s mouth came close to his ear and Raul was sure his face was bright red at that moment.  
"I hope our little secret is safe with you," whispered Yuriy. Then he winked at him and left him alone with his swirling thoughts, the molten rock in his stomach and the endless frustration of the one who cannot forget.


End file.
